Ladder
by JrockSpam's Requested Fics
Summary: When 15 year old Meto's mother dies, social services place him with the only living and capable person his mother had listed as a possible guardian- a young long-lost 20-something step relative, Hitsugi. The two bond almost immediately but trouble begins as Meto's brotherly feelings turn to romantic and the two are set whirlwind and emotional trauma.


SUMMARY: When 15 year old Meto's mother dies, social services place him with the only living and capable person his mother had listed as a possible guardian- a young long-lost 20-something step relative, Mitsuo. The two bond almost immediately but trouble begins as Meto's brotherly feelings turn to romantic and the two are set whirlwind and emotional trauma.

'You just don't have one' or 'you don't need one'.

Every kid needs a father though. The first information I found about my father was from a drunk 19 year old.

It was 2002 and I was just 8 years old. At 11pm I had been awoken from my sleep by my tired mother who then carried me out our home and strapped me into the back car seat. My mother's step cousin had phoned pleading for help 5 minutes before. The step cousin and her husband were an unfortunate pair. A few years earlier they had been in a car accident, leaving them both wheel chair bound. The husband could barely move except for his head, while the step cousin had only lost use of her hips down. On this horrid night, they had phoned my mother asking them to collect their 19 year old son. From what I remember, he was drunk and sick, and had been looked after outside a pub by some worried friends until he was collected. I was as quiet as a mouse as this short, stocky lad fell into the front passenger seat, groaning and rolling his head side to side. My young self was rather disturbed. As my mother drove him home, she had ranted at him cruelly, repeating the rhetorical question of 'we're not even really related so why do I help you?' every minute or so. The teenager snapped, and that's how I had found out.

'Don't be a bitch! Jus' coz your kid's dad died recently doesn't mean you have to take it out me! I was nice and sympathetic to you while you were being all miserable and whining away to my mum!'

My father had been dead for 2 weeks. Even now I am unsure of how my mother received this shocking information, but my 8 year old self wanted to cry once my mother explained the full details. I had dreamed of one day finding my father and being a happy family, instead of the troubled family I was apart of. Sadly, death seemed to follow me.

When I was 10, I lost my step-grandfather, and my grandmother followed only 18 months later. My real grandfather had died before I was a week old. I hate to think that before I truly reached teenage years, I already knew loss and it seemed to chase me.

When I thought I was free, my life changed forever.

Just a few weeks after my 15 birthday, I was visited by a police officer at school. I was excused from not only my class but the entire school day. I was ordered into the back seat of the police vehicle. I was terrified and confused, wondering what on earth I had done. When we arrived at the station, I found out I had done nothing of the negative sort. For a moment my body relaxed but quickly tightened as I worried for the true reason I had been brought here.

My mother had been found dead in our home from a drug overdose. She was found by a neighbour, who owned a spare door key for emergencies. The neighbour and my mother had a weekly routine. Twice a week they'd have a morning coffee together and chat, enjoying each other's company. On this day, my mother hadn't answered the door so the neighbour had gone to investigate. She found my mother sprawled out on the sofa, clinging to the string of life. By the time the emergency services had arrived, she was gone.

I still feel guity for not saying good bye to her that day. I had woken up late and gone straight to school, without breakfast. I can't help but think if I had just gone to say goodbye, I could have found her and saved her life.

With no living relatives, and my step aunt and uncle being incapable of my care, I was left to the last person my mother had listed as a guardian if 'a dire situation arose'. My mother's step cousin's son. I spent the first two weeks after my mother's death in foster care with a middle aged American woman named Mandy, waiting for someone to actually find out where this man was. They contacted his wheel chair bound parents, but they didn't know where he was.

"He moved" they said "He said he'd tell us where once he was sure he was staying"

For some reason, the situation hadn't put social services off the idea of leaving me in the care of this man. Sure enough, after 5 days of searching, he turned up in the outskirts of Tokyo. When my family, including step family, were alive they had all been placed in Sendai, so why he was so far away confused me. Once they achieved contact, they called me. They seemed overly glad that he had agreed to take me in. I didn't care. I didn't care what happened to me. The only person I wanted was my mother and she had abandoned me for death.

It took a week before they sent me to live with the stranger. I actually prefered the idea of remaining fostered by Miss Mandy, but I didn't say anything. I just let everything run the way they wanted it. As long as I had a bed to curl up in, to cry in and to sleep in, I didn't care where I was. On a Sunday morning, I was picked up by my social worker, Mikki, who drove me to the Social Service's main office.

"He says you've met before" she said meekly.

I shrugged "Yeah. I guess. Years ago"

Mikki seemed too calm in presence. Everyone else had seemed so uncomfortable near me, as if I was a ticking bomb, minutes away from exploding. I can only assume she had dealt with cases like me many times before. The kind woman thought as she drove, sucking her inner cheek.

"Well he's very nice" she finally said "Odd but nice. Very stable. He's a musician. You like music don't you?"

"Everyone thinks they're a musician if they can play something like three blind mice on a kiddie's keyboard" I muttered.

"I think you'll have a lot in common."

I rolled my eyes. I remembered this person as a drunk, mouthy teenager. I couldn't imagine him being someone 'stable', let alone 'very stable'. A thought crossed my mind.

"What even is this guy's name?" I blurted out, surprising Mikki

"You don't know his name?"

"No" I spat "I've never fucking spoke to him"

I heard Mikki sigh, shaking her head slightly. I hate it when people do things like that. It really winds me up.

"His name is Mitsuo. He's very nice"

"You keep saying he's nice! Have you been on a date with him or something?"

The car journey seemed awfully long, but yet not long enough. I dreaded meeting this person, no matter how nice and stable Mikki believed him to be. I bluntly believed him to be a complete arsehole, even though I had never spoken a word to him.

When the car finally pulled in to the car park, I felt a cold shiver run through my skin. I just wanted to go home. To my home. With my mum.  
>Reluctantly, I followed Mikki into the building, my feet dragging on the floor as I went. She led me up two flights of stairs and finally into an elavator. The entire time we were silent. I didn't even speak to ask why she hadn't got in the damn elevator in the first place. We got out at floor 6 and walked up a long corridor. I already knew where we going. I had been brought here by the police on the day of my mother's death. I knew we would turn in to the seventh door on the left and enter a room crammed with blue sofas with a desk in one corner. The last time I had entered, there had been two other teenagers sitting on the sofas, along with three adults. Today, the room had only two people. A woman typed away at her desk, not even looking up from her computer screen when we entered. The other person was a man.<p>

This man didn't seem to notice us either, day dreaming away as he gazed at the blank white wall in front of him. This man was dressed in a leopard print sleeves hoodie with a bright short sleeved shirt underneath. He wore a pair of casual ripped denim jeans stuffed into a pair of black boots. I'd never seen someone with hair like his, at least in person. It was bleached dirty blond with black and brown highlight. One side was rather short, while the other side of hair tickled his shoulders.

"Mr Ikari" Mikki finally said, bring the man out of thought. He looked shocked as he stared wide eyed at us, his heavily pierced mouth gleaming at us.

"This" Mikki brought her hand to my back and gave a firm push forward "Is Meto. But I believe you know that"

I realised was mouth was hanging open like a fish and quickly closed it before the strange man mistook me as dullard.

"Y-yeah" He stuttered standing up, fiddling with his hair "Of course"

He held out his hand to me, seeming to forget we were a good 15 feet away from each other. I swallowed and walked towards him, slowly raising my own hand. Our palms met and he shook them slowly. I saw his adam's apple bounce as he swallowed hard. He seemed nervous. I hadn't expected him to be unsure of me. I had expected to him to be confident and cocky, putting his arm round me in the first few seconds of meeting me and giving me a hard punch in the arm and declaring it was playful. But he didn't. Mitsuo seemed to be even meeker than Mikki.

We were lead in to a small room where Mitsuo had to sign papers. Mikki began to lecture him about caring for me but I soon stopped listening. Instead I stared at my own feet. I felt numb. No longer angry and hurt like I had early. Now I just felt lifeless and nervous. I wonder if Mitsuo felt the same...

After an hour of paper work and warnings, Mikki lead us back to the car park, still rambling about emergency numbers and the difficulty of her job. My ears picked up the odd sentence from her, but most of the time I carried on ignoring her. To me, my thoughts were more important. I wondered about what Mitsuo's home was like and if I would feel comfortable there. I wondered if we really would get on or if I would end up stuck in another foster home. From things Mikki had said, I understood that it was unlikely I would get to live with Miss Mandy again.

I collected my belongs from Mikki's car, Mitsuo kindly helping me. He made small comments like 'Wow! Kid's have lots of stuff' and muttered 'Jesus..' very so often. I'm not sure if it was the amount of suitcases I had or the weight of them that shocked him. Within 10 minutes of filling up Mitsuo's car with my belongs, I had said good bye to Mikki and was strapped in to the front passenger's seat of the large range rover. I waved slowly to Mikki with a small smile, feeling hopeful. Once she was out of sight, my nerves increased and I began to wiggle my toes in my converses. Mitsuo fiddled with the car stereo before putting on a CD. He was so quick, I didn't get to see what was written on it. I felt a little more comfortable in the unfamiliar car when Rob Zombie began to play.

"So" Mitsuo began before clearing his throat "Do you like this music?"

"Yeah. A lot" I muttered, nodding in case he didn't hear.

"Well that's good. I'm not keen on playing pop music. I mean, I like a little bit of pop but I'm very picky." he explained with a small laugh.

"Same" I giggled back.

For a minute, we were silent again. In a way it was comforting that he was just as nervous as me, but it also didn't help. I began to rack my brains for something to say but every idea seemed stupid. Luckily, Mitsuo managed to speak again, saving me the pressure.

"So... What other music do you like?"

I swallowed "D...Do you mean genre or, like, bands and stuff?"

"Either." Mitsuo shrugged "Lets go with both"

I shuffled in my seat as I searched for words "I love death metal and Nu-Metal. But I do like some pop too. I like, erm... Marilyn Manson and Slipknot. Oh, and this band called Skindred I found on line a week ago. I like lots of stuff, really."

Mitsuo smiled, his eyes still on the road as he drove. I've never heard of the latter band, but Manson and slipknot are cool. I've got all their CDs at home" He paused and began to fiddle with the CD player, putting on a song I didn't recognise. "What about X Japan?"

"I've heard a few songs. My mum used to listen to them a lot"

"Ah! I remember us singing in my parent's kitchen when I was young"

A small smile grew up my cheeks "Really? I didn't think you two liked each other?"

"We had our ups and down. The 4 year age difference made us close but, eh! We annoyed each other" Mitsuo spoke fondly, that small smile looking more gentle now.

I frowned "4 years? I didn't think she was that young..."

Mitsuo mumbled and a gave a sharp nod. I wriggled in my seat so I could look at him properly. I curled up on the seat, comfy at last the presence of the man.

"Can you tell me more about my mum?" I asked, feeling a little nervous to ask. I don't know why he would say no, but the fear or him declining my request made me feel a little sick. We were finally bonding, bonding over her memory and I just didn't want it to end yet.

Hitting a spot of traffic, Mitsuo put the break on and took the car out of gear. He leaned back in his seat and flexed his shoulders. His head felt to one side, his eyes falling on me.

"What do you wanna know?" he yawned, covering his mouth one hand and stretching the other's arm out.

"I don't know... Do you remember when she pregnant with me? No one really spoke about it"

Mitsuo gave a little laugh, looking at the road ahead. Not a single car was moving. Some owners had turned their cars completely off.

"I'm not surprised no one speaks about it" he giggled "Ah, god..."

"Why?" I frowned, chewing my tongue

"Well... She was a teenager wasn't she? Her parents wanted her to do well and there she was, only a few months shy of 15 telling every one someone had knocked her up. It didn't look good"

"15?!" I choked "I thought she was older than that when she had me-"

"Nah! She was baby herself"

The cars in front of us began to move a little, earning Mitsuo's reaction to be placing his hand on the break. He mumbled to himself "Do I move now, or... No... ah, um". He finally decided it wasn't worth it.

"I remember" he carried on, still watching the traffic intently "She stayed with us a lot because she kept having arguments with her parents. She scared the living shit out me! As soon as my parents were out the house and it was just me and her, she'd scream at me like I was a monster! She never explained what I had done, but clearly, what ever it was, it had pissed her off no end"

I hummed, turning my own gaze to the paused cars in front of us. The scene was do dull. A dark, cloudy sky and 4 long lines of still cars that made you feel hopeless. I must have looked sad as Mitsuo promptly ask what was wrong.

"Oh" I rolled my shoulders backwards with discomfort "I'm just... shocked" I gave a small giggle, that really wasn't all that cheery "I hadn't realised how little I had known about my own mum"

"Hey!" Mitsuo unexpectedly wriggled his arm round me and pulled me close, giving me a little shake as he did so "It's alright. You'll find you don't know a lot about most people" He gently released me as the vehicles infront finally began to move.

"You could be living with me for the next five years-" he continued "But at the end of it all you might not know about every friend I've had, the terrible things I did at your age or even my secret obsessions" he laughed.

It didn't take long for us to get off the highway. How conversation got deeper and easier as the minutes passed. We spoke more about my mother. Mitsuo told me about how my mother was oddly obsessed with playing monopoly, and would after drag him to play with her. He told me she would we get annoyed with seven year old Mitsuo because he was too young to completely understand the full game. Just thirty minutes later, Mitsuo told me we were almost home. I felt nervous but excited. I felt more hopeful now. I felt that I could be comfortable living with this man. We arrived a rather traditional-Japanese looking home with a set six foot tall electric gates. The building was old, but tidy and refined. There wasn't a garden or a pond like more traditional homes. Just a small amount of lad covered in dark green grass. I gave Mitsuo the calm compliment of 'nice place', while looking around in awe.  
>We parked on the stone-covered drive way. The man pressed a large black button, making me jump as I realised the boot door was lifting up. With a smile, he told me to begin unloading my stuff while he opened the front door. With a cheery 'kay!' I jumped at the order, hopping out the car and beginning to grag my items out the back of the car. Once he had unlocked the door, Mitsuo abandoned it open and jogged over to me to help. We discussed my need for so many items, and other weak conversations as we place my luggage on the drive-way.<p>

"Oh, one more thing-" Mitsuo began as he pulled my last suitcase out the back of his car "Call me Hitsugi. Everyone else does"


End file.
